What Friends Are For
by DreamsofSpike
Summary: When Mitchell discovers what Herrick is really planning, and tries to stop him, things go much worse than in canon. By the time his friends find him and rescue him, he's been terribly damaged -- but is it beyond repair?
1. Chapter 1

"I suppose it was too much to hope that you wouldn't find this."

Mitchell spun around to face the doorway of the room where he had discovered the huddled human prisoners and found himself face to face with Herrick. The older vampire bore a rueful smile of resignation as he took in the scene. The calm, careless tone of Herrick's voice only served to intensify Mitchell's outrage and anger at what he'd just found.

"'No one gets left behind', eh? Would you mind explaining this to me?"

On some level he was aware that he was in a very dangerous position here – sorely outnumbered and on the wrong side of this particular battle – and yet he couldn't keep the furious accusation from his tone.

"Everyone has their part to play," Herrick acknowledged with a slow nod as he took several measured steps nearer to Mitchell, revealing a couple of other vampires who followed him into the room. "No one ever said everyone's part would be exactly the same."

"And what _part_ would you say that these poor people are supposed to play?" Mitchell demanded, his voice trembling with indignant rage. "What, they're just your… your ready and available _food supply_?"

Herrick shrugged carelessly, his blue eyes glittering with malicious amusement as he replied. "We've got to _eat_, Mitchell. We couldn't turn _everyone_. If we all were vampires, well – life wouldn't be any fun for anyone anymore, now, would it?" His cruel smile faded into a more serious expression as he regarded Mitchell thoughtfully and added, "I never said everyone's part was a pleasant one."

The two large vampires flanking Herrick moved out to the sides, effectively blocking any escape from the room. Warning bells began to sound in the back of Mitchell's mind, breaking through the anger to alert him to the fact that the helpless humans whom he was championing might not be the only ones in danger at the moment. Herrick noticed his wary glance toward the other vamps and let out a heavy sigh, his voice soft and resigned when he spoke again.

"I _had_ hoped that _you_ might have played a better part in all of this, Mitchell. Really… I'm disappointed."

Mitchell swallowed hard as he took an instinctive step backward, his dark eyes darting warily between the two vampires, watching for any sign of impending attack. He was still worried about these sickly, weak humans, and didn't want to leave them there at the mercy of the other vampires; but he also knew that there was no way he could help them if he became a victim himself.

"There's no reason for this to get ugly." He kept his voice calm and even, trying not to betray any fear as he turned his cautious gaze on Herrick again. "If this is what you want to do, I know better than to think I can stop you – but I don't want to be a part of it. So I'll just be on my way…"

"No, I'm sorry, Mitchell," Herrick sighed, "but you won't. You think you can just hop in and out of this as if it was a child's game? It doesn't work that way." He paused before clarifying in a tone of genuine regret. "I can't simply let you walk out of here. What kind of a message would that send to the others? You're either in or out, Mitchell…"

He held up a halting hand as Mitchell opened his mouth to speak.

"… and I'm not asking you which. You've already made that quite clear."

As if in response to some unspoken signal from their employer, the vampire muscle suddenly goes into action, closing in on Mitchell from both sides at once. Mitchell tried to fight them off, extending his fangs and attacking with his fists as well – but it really wasn't much of a fight. Within minutes they had his hands pinned behind his back, and one strong arm wrapped around his throat, effectively preventing him from struggling any further.

"What?" Mitchell snarled in disgust and defiance, trying in vain to pull free of his captors. "I don't want to help you murder innocent people, so you're going to have _me _killed now?"

"I'm sorry about this, Mitchell," Herrick repeated, starting toward the door, calling over his shoulder as his employees dragged Mitchell along in his wake. "But you haven't left me much of a choice. Although I'm not going to _have_ you killed," he amended matter-of-factly, turning to meet Mitchell's eyes for a moment as he led the way down the hall to a room a few doors down. "When that time comes, you've at least earned the right to have me do it myself."

They paused outside the door while Herrick unlocked it, then dragged Mitchell inside. He immediately noticed that it was empty, unfurnished, except for a thin mat placed beneath a set of iron shackles that was fastened to the wall. Mitchell tried uselessly to free himself of the grasp of his captors as they led him across the room, forced him down onto his knees on the mat and fastened his wrists into the shackles.

"Now, you'd do well to make this easier on yourself, Mitchell – and don't struggle. I've got a lot to do in the next few days, and I don't have time to deal with you now, so it seems you've got a bit of time to kill." A cold smile graced Herrick's lips as he stopped near the doorway, followed by his henchmen. "If you keep quiet and don't draw attention to yourself, you should be all right until then – but I can make no guarantees." He shared a wink of malicious amusement with his men as he added, "I won't be around to keep the others in line… and once word gets out of your immense failure, Mitchell… there won't be self-respecting vampire in Bristol who won't want to get a piece of _you_."


	2. Chapter 2

_Okay… don't freak out… don't freak out… I'm going to get out of this… somehow…_

Mitchell bit back a frustrated groan as he tested the chains that bound him again. He had already tried to pull free countless times in the last few hours, without the slightest success. The chains were designed to withstand the superhuman strength of a vampire, and did not give at all.

… _but every minute I'm stuck here is another minute that Herrick's out there… and he said he had things to do. What things?_

Mitchell's troubled thoughts turned to George and Annie, and he felt a fresh sense of panic overcome him, yanking instinctively against the chains with a snarl of frantic frustration as they jerked him back against the wall behind him.

_What if he sends someone to hurt them? Or goes after them himself while I'm here and can't do a single thing to protect them?_

His thoughts tormented him as he waited in agonizing solitude, with nothing to alleviate his fears or distract him from his disconcerting thoughts. Herrick's parting warning made him reluctant to call out at all – not that doing so would have done him any good. There was no one near enough to hear him but the human prisoners, and other vampires who would have no interest in helping him.

He shuddered as he thought of Herrick's words, and wondered if perhaps he should be grateful for the solitude while it lasted.

It didn't last long.

*************************

"My, look how Herrick's golden boy has fallen!" Seth crowed, the words nearly drowned out by the echoing bang of the door against the stone wall.

Mitchell started out of the light, fitful sleep into which he had fallen out of sheer boredom, after many solitary hours in his makeshift prison. He blinked against the light that filled the doorway behind Seth, leaving his face and form in shadow, his identity only revealed by the painfully familiar sound of his voice.

"Things've changed quickly, haven't they, Mitchell?" Seth continued in a gleefully taunting voice as he slowly closed the distance between them. "And your future looked so promising until…" He glanced down at his watch for dramatic effect before continuing, "… just a few hours ago."

Seth crouched in front of Mitchell, smiling with amusement as Mitchell strained toward him in defiant challenge, his fangs bared in a wordless warning. His voice softened as he gave Mitchell a derisive look and went on, completely unthreatened by Mitchell's defiant gesture.

"You would have been a leader in our movement, Mitchell. You were supposed to be the shining light for us all…"

"I'd rather be here than have anything to do with the murderous lot of you!" Mitchell declared, his voice trembling with rage. "Being a prisoner here – even dying – has got to be better than taking part in this nightmarish scheme of Herrick's."

"Really, Mitchell?" Seth stood up straight, looking down on the kneeling prisoner with a gloating grin. "You'd rather be a… a plaything… a _toy_ on which Herrick's team vent their frustrations… than a member of that team?"

Mitchell felt an apprehensive shiver go down his spine at those words, and he tensed, preparing for the pain promised by Seth's cold tone. He knew the lesser vampire had always resented the special position in which Herrick placed him. Seth had always considered himself to be more worthy of Herrick's favor, by sheer virtue of his loyalty and the long hours he put in, in Herrick's service, while Mitchell had only recently decided to join their movement.

He could only imagine what Seth wanted to do to him now – now that he was bound and kneeling and helpless.

A vicious kick to his face ended his wary contemplation, as an explosion of pain rocked him back, his head slamming painfully against the stone wall behind him. Seth let out a gleeful, self-satisfied laugh as he followed up that kick with another to Mitchell's stomach that knocked the unnecessary breath from his lungs and doubled him over in pain.

Furious frustration mingled with his pain as Mitchell seethed in helpless rage, well aware that had he been free, there was no way that Seth could have taken him. As it was, however, his hands were chained behind him and there was no way that he could hope to defend himself. Seth vented his own frustrations with blow after vicious blow, leaving Mitchell dizzy and bleeding, struggling to remain upright against an overwhelming sense of nausea and vertigo.

Once Mitchell was dazed and disoriented, Seth crouched in front of him again, grasping his hair and jerking his head to the side to expose his throat. Mitchell tried to pull away but couldn't as the younger vampire snarled, extending his fangs an instant before plunging them through Mitchell's skin. Mitchell let out a hoarse cry of outrage and pain as yet more of his strength was stolen from him, pulled from his veins by his eager tormenter.

When Seth finally withdrew with a low, exultant laugh, Mitchell collapsed back against the wall, struggling not to black out from the loss of blood and the many blows he had taken. He gasped for breath in an instinctive reaction to the overwhelming weakness he felt, eyes closed as he struggled to recover from the assault he had endured.

Seth rose to his feet, grinning down at Mitchell in satisfaction for a long moment, taking in and enjoying the damage he had wrought. He waited until the other vampire looked up at him through wary, dark eyes touched with more fear than Mitchell would have liked to reveal to speak again, his voice soft and filled with sadistic anticipation.

"So you prefer this, then, do you, Mitchell? We'll see how you feel after you've been here a few days."

He headed toward the door, his footsteps echoing hollowly on the floor, and Mitchell despised himself for the pathetic sense of relief he felt at his retreat. At the door, Seth paused, the handle in his hand as he turned back to give Mitchell one final look, cruel pleasure in his eyes as he caught his gaze and asked a chilling question.

"Shall I send the next one in?"


End file.
